Somethings never change,
No matter how I do.
Everything gone past,
Everything to come to be,

A stirring in my mind.
Those simple times and moments,
Moments shared, moments held.
Moments held in the deepest, compassionate parts,
Of my mind.

Those parts that never change.
A warmth from beneath my heart,
A roar of my very being.
To live on life.
Everything’s better.
Some things never change.

Moveing past, the darkness past.
Ready to give, everything.
To give my all,
For all who care,
That is me,
This is me.
Who I will be.

Some things never change.

The idea for this poem came from Everything by Passenger

Wrote the title of this poem a week ago, and wrote the song it was spurred on by.
With this, I am thinking, happy in this current moment, blissful in thinking and creating. Trying to create anew, from the poem, the feeling. Such an amazing song.

Five minute of bliss,
Worth all of the pain.
Waiting and in pain,
My thoughts swirling around in my head,
A dark storm,
The broken glass, my mind shattered.

Walking into the glass pane,
Watching the world shatter around before me,
Watching the pieces fall and cut.
Watching a scene in the distance.
Watching hurt,
But in bliss.

Seeing happiness.
Thinking,

For five minutes of bliss.

A storyesque poem, thinking to the past, trying to rationalise a decision I made, I know why, but cannot totally explain, that is what this is for.

A brief summary, spending time with someone, who was always drawn away, my pain, attached to their want of someone else.

It caused me great pain. Greatest pain ever, wishing for death, torture, anything. It was torture, but only difference, it death wouldn’t end it, it wouldn’t come. Yet for a mere five minutes of bliss, even if the rest is surrounded by total, excruciating pain. It was worth it, I still stick by that, even if my closest friends urged me not to. The bliss made it, the bliss was worth it. Maybe I should have continued, maybe I shouldn’t have.

But it was worth it.

I am okay, not feeling bad writing this, but thinking, pondering, trying to explain. I’m past those depths of pain…………………………………………….

Got back to this poem almost a week after I wrote it, I found this in my ‘drafts’ and I’m going through all of the draft titles writing them and publishing.

Feeling much better, in a similar mood but happy, very very happy. Thinking of small moments where you are in total bliss.

This is a true storyesque, reading this is alien yet also familiar, I wrote it in a different time, mind and frame of reference. But it has a story that speaks to me, so I publish it better. I’m really happy.

It’s difficulty is no matter the happiness or sadness, the voice of you, the mind drawing your attention. To the bad, sad and memories. Trying to take those good memories from you, the happiest of feelings, attempted to be dulled with the overthinking.

I’m much stronger now, better than I was. Out of depression, able to cope with my feelings, even when they’re bad. I know what I can do, even though still hard. I write poems. Knowing full well that the feelings, the sadness and the overthinking will pass in not very long.